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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28028238">And the Snow Keeps Falling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice'>Sleepless_Malice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Lot of Tolkien References, Age Difference, And I mean A LOT - from 2nd Age to the 4th Age, Blizzards &amp; Snowstorms, Crossovers &amp; Fandom Fusions, Elves, Falling In Love, Fourth Age, Immortality, Lothlórien, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Reincarnation and Transmigration, Snow, Snowed In, Transmigration, Winter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:00:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28028238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/pseuds/Sleepless_Malice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after Jiang Wanyin has cultivated to immortality, he attempts to travel to Gusu where he never arrives. Instead, he wakes up in the snow, surrounded by golden trees.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín/Lán Jǐngyí</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Little Lotus Holiday Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And the Snow Keeps Falling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenyasBlood/gifts">ElenyasBlood</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>—written for the Chengyi Secret Santa Event for Elenya. I hope you'll enjoy your little pre-Christmas gift.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://imgbb.com/">
    
  </a>
</p><p>
  <b>*</b>
</p><p>
  <b>And the Snow Keeps Falling</b>
</p><p>*</p><hr/><p>Around Jingyi, the Mellyrn are shedding their crowns, a golden snowfall in the middle of winter. All the years before, the leaves turned golden in autumn but remained on the tree throughout winter, only falling to the ground in late spring when fresh leaves already sprouted.</p><p>Although the visible signs of decay are beautiful to watch, golden leaves spread out across a blanket of snow, it is heartbreaking, in a way. It is the first winter that the enchanted woods of Lothlórien aren’t protected by its lady’s power anymore, the magic of Nenya gone. Like so many others of Jingyi’s folk, the lady who had founded the realm of Lothlórien together with her husband had bid this world her farewell, never to return. She had sailed into the West, from whence she came thousands of years ago, unable to ignore the longing in her heart any longer.</p><p>And thus, for the first time since its founding, winter wraps its icy fingers around Lothlórien. Even though the lord remains, his powers aren’t strong enough to shield the enchanted woods from the seasons.</p><p>Snowflakes sail down from the bleak sky and Jingyi stares at them, like he has been watching them fall for many days now, entirely enamored by them. He had long exchanged the ornate robes he used to wear for something more practical; silver-grey doe-skin breeches and a woolen tunic of the same color. Except for the golden leaves on the ground it makes him become one with his surroundings, almost like a wraith. </p><p>Jingyi still remembers the day he had seen snow for the very first time, just outside of Rivendell during a diplomatic visit. It had been centuries ago and yet he remembers how he had fallen in love instantly. He had raced, and laughed, and watched the snowflakes dance through the air, sparkling like diamonds as the last light of the day lost itself in them. Although he had long come into adulthood by then, he ran, and ran, ran, trying to catch the snowflakes with his hands and mouth. He hadn’t stopped at that, flopping backwards into the white blanket to roll around until he was covered in snow from head to toe.</p><p>And now, the snow had come to Lothlórien as he had wished so often it would—but the carefree innocence had been lost over the years and instead of running around like a child, it now makes him question the choice he made a year ago: to stay in Lorien, or to sail West together with most of his kin.</p><p>Those who decided to stay have been tied with the forest for thousands of years; connected to its very soil, belonging here. But for Jingyi, who counted among the youngest generation it has never been that: he is not tied to the forest in such a way, although his heart yearns for it. But he had never heard the call of the West in his heart, either. It’s almost as if he is caught between two worlds, not really belonging in either of them.</p><p>The choice Jingyi made is final—to remain in Middle-Earth.</p><p>Despite having heard the tales of sadness that might befall those who remain, becoming weary of the days and life itself until they become spirits, he had decided to stay. Despite knowing how emotions leave and the world loses its joy, its colors fading until nothing more than blurry shadows are left and he’ll succumb to walking a dream for the eternity of an immortal life. </p><p>None of it could dissuade him, as something had told him to stay, something that he still fails to grasp. It isn't an obligation towards his lord nor the land itself; it’s something deeper, something far more meaningful—or maybe, it’s simply a beautiful illusion his mind had created, like Sizhui had said.</p><p>Sizhui, whom Jingyi misses so much that it hurts physically. They grew up together, born only a one year apart; spent their childhood together, their training and education—and went on patrol together ever since they were old enough. But Sizhui had sailed; had yearned for the West all the centuries. Hence, their ways had parted in Mithlond, a golden sunset blossoming in the sky. </p><p>*</p><p>A breeze stirs through the trees, followed by the chirping of birds, but there’s another sound underneath it; most likely what has provoked the birds’ flight in the first place. Although it might not be more than a groan, to any Elven ear it is loud, impossible to ignore.</p><p>Jingyi’s attention shifts in an instant. He rises soundlessly, smoothing down his tunic and picks up his bow and quiver from the ground, whilst his sword always remains attached to his waist even during his rest. Although the great evil had been destroyed long ago, lesser spirits, as old as the world itself, still linger, taking back what once was theirs.</p><p>Jingyi moves silently across the blanket of snow, light enough not to sink in; the white and silver of his clothes blending into the scenery, becoming one with it.</p><p>There’s the sound of startled birds again; closer this time in the direction to his left. It must be on the border of Lothlórien, close to the enchanted stream. The water’s magic is weaker now that the Lady of the Woods has left, but it’s still strong; exactly as strong as the forest’s lord is.</p><p>Although Jingyi is not afraid, he moves more carefully now, very much on alert. Trespassers aren’t uncommon and not everyone is on friendly terms with the Elves. Century-old grudges are hard to completely erase and quarrels over small things are frequent enough.  </p><p>Far in the distance, Jingyi spots something purple, highlighted against the whiteness of the snow. He slows his footsteps, walking cautiously towards it.</p><p>It’s a human figure, Jingyi realizes, squatting in the snow as if he’s looking for something. But for what? Apart from the endless sea of white, not even Jingyi’s eyes can spot anything at all. There’s nothing worth hunting near-by, not even birds—not that the men from the closest settlements ever come into these parts of the forest to hunt.</p><p>Jingyi hides behind a tree, watching and analyzing the scene for a moment. Everything about it seems strange: the clothes the man wears are robes actually. They look Elvish, with intricate patterns and billowing sleeves. The ornament in the man’s hair looks very distinctly Elvish as well, silver with a purple stone—but then, most of the Elves have left these shores and those who haven’t Jingyi has been familiar with for centuries.</p><p>So the stranger has to be of the race of Men—but neither the robes themselves nor the color speaks of that. The vibrant purple is far too colorful for Men’s attire. It is only then that Jingyi notices the sword at the man’s waist. It’s the most beautiful weapon Jingyi has ever seen, and he has seen many throughout his life, some forged by the greatest smiths. The sword, especially its handle, looks as if it is not of this world—and that makes Jingyi cautious.</p><p>Sometimes, evil disguises itself in the fair form of Elves to corrupt those trusting enough. Jingyi knows the tale of Eregion’s fall, closely tied to Lady Galadriel’s own fate; of Celebrimbor’s downfall, who was ensnared by Annatar’s beauty and eloquence. And damn, the stranger with his long dark hair and sharp cheekbones is the peak of beauty…</p><p>What if evil wasn’t permanently destroyed, and has returned now that the Rings of Power don’t protect the Realms anymore? What if the old foe has returned from across the sea, wrestled free from the chains forged to bind him…</p><p>Jingyi walks up on the man without making any sound. He draws his sword, silver glowing in the gloomy twilight for night is about to fall.</p><p>“Who are you?” Jingyi asks, the tip of the sword pressing against the stranger’s throat, right against the visible vein. “And whom do you serve?”</p><p>The man tilts his head towards Jingyi. “I am me,” he snaps with a glare, chilling to the very bone. “And only serve myself.”</p><p>Jingyi quirks one eyebrow, not having expected such a dismissive reply. “Get up,” he tells the man, the tipi of his sword pressing against the skin a little harder. “And don’t even dare reach for your sword. The others will shoot you without asking twice.”</p><p>It’s a blatant lie, for Jingyi is alone. He must have sounded convincing enough as the man stands, hands clenched into fists at his side.</p><p>The man is almost a head taller than Jingyi himself, standing tall with shoulders squared. </p><p>“Who are you?” Jingyi asks again. There’s something strange about the man, Jingyi thinks: his build indicates that he’s of the Race of Men indeed, but his facial features look distinctly Elvish, though fiercer. Almost like the paintings he has seen of the Elves from the First Age.</p><p>“Jiang Wanyin,” the man says at last. “And I would much appreciate it if you could remove your sword from my throat.”</p><p>Jingyi doesn’t lower his sword. “Jiang Wanyin,” he repeats. He likes the sound of the man’s name on his tongue, and well, he likes his appearance, too, especially his eyes. “Never heard of that name before.”</p><p>The thing is: Jingyi had always been attracted to the Race of Men. He can’t explain why: if it’s the broader build or the fact that they grow hair at strange places. But he has never met a man so beautiful as Jiang Wanyin.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin glares at Jingyi again. “You know what?” he sneers, knuckles shining white. “It’s rude to ask for a name and not give your own.”</p><p>Jingyi quirks his eyebrows. He’s convinced that Jiang Wanyin must be a man then, given the utter lack of politeness. “Jingyi,” he says. “My name is Jingyi of the Golden Wood.”</p><p>“Jingyi,” Jiang Wanyin repeats.</p><p>Jingyi cuts him off although he quite likes how his name falls from the man’s lips. “What is your business in this forest?” he asks.</p><p>Depending on the answer, he is willing to consider lowering his sword.</p><p>“Business?” Jiang Wanyin asks, looking incredulously back at Jingyi. “I have no business in these parts of the world. I must have gotten lost on my way to Gusu.”</p><p>“Gusu?” Jingyi fails to keep the surprise out of his voice. The name is entirely unknown to him. “Never heard of that either.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin looks puzzled at Jingyi. “Gusu. The settlement in the mountains,” he says, sounding as if he’s explaining something to a child. Jingyi doesn’t like it. “I have business there.”</p><p>Jingyi narrows his eyes, not lowering his sword at all. “Are you drunk?”</p><p>“No?” Jiang Wanyin rolls his eyes. “Are you?”</p><p>“Hardly,” Jingyi snaps back, equally annoyed. “I don’t drink.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin snorts. “That… sounds a lot like Gusu. Are you certain Gusu isn’t near-by?”</p><p>All the beauty of the man side, Jingyi wishes that he wasn’t alone with him; wishes that someone with a greater knowledge of such matters was close. But everyone else is so far away that Jingyi doesn’t even sense their presence.</p><p>“I told you,” Jingyi says, dismissive. “There is no place called Gusu. Not near-by, nor anywhere else. Rivendell, Bree, Edoras—but no settlement that is called Gusu.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin sighs, defeated. Unclenching his hands. “What is the name of this place.”</p><p>“Lothlórien,” Jingyi says, pulling back his sword from the man’s throat a little. “The Golden Wood. Its former capital is Caras-Galadhon.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin looks confused. “Just like you have never heard of Gusu, I have never heard these names before.”</p><p>“This is so strange…,” Jingyi says, rather to himself whilst rubbing his neck. Even ordinary common folk know these places—just that Jiang Wanyin doesn’t exactly look like a common man. He looks wealthy, incredibly so; all of him—the clothes, the sword, an air of nobility surrounding him.</p><p>“Indeed,” Jiang Wanyin agrees, less to himself though.</p><p>Jingyi feels as if he won’t get anywhere with the questions he usually asks when he catches strangers in the Golden Wood, so he tries a different approach.</p><p>“I like your colors,” Jingyi states, looking Jiang Wanyin up from head to toe.</p><p>It’s actually an understatement. Jingyi hasn’t seen silken fabric so bright and radiant in a very long time. Dwarven fabric is equally colorful but almost never purple. The robe alone must have cost a fortune and hence Jiang Wanyin must be incredibly wealthy. Purple dyes and pigments are the most expensive ones and it’s the very reason why usually only small areas of fabric are dyed in that color.</p><p>“It’s the color of Yunmeng Jiang,” Jiang Wanyin states, pride shining from his eyes.</p><p>The look suits him, Jingyi thinks; it makes him even more beautiful in a way. Not that he ever would get distracted by it. He has never heard of that place before, so probably, the man is fantasizing?</p><p>“Did you drink from that stream?” Jingyi asks, hoping that Jiang Wanyin won’t see the insult for what it is.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin shakes his head. “No. It looks far too cold for drinking.”</p><p>Jingyi can’t argue about that. Ice shards are spread over the stream, another thing that has never occurred before.</p><p>Gusu. Jingyi doesn’t know that place. He’s certain it doesn’t exist in this world, and yet he asks, “What business do you have in Gusu?”</p><p>Jingyi can see Jiang Wanyin’s face working. “Advice,” he says after a while. “I was looking for advice from the elders there. About immortality…”</p><p>Jingyi furrows his brows, looking at Jiang Wanyin’s face. “So you aren’t a man?”</p><p>“Obviously I am a man,” Jiang Wanyin says, offended.</p><p>“But men can’t be immortals,” Jingyi insists, somewhat puzzled. “Either you are mortal and a man, or you are immortal and are an Elf.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin narrows his eyes. “An Elf?”</p><p>“Yes?” Jingyi says. He is more confused than he was before.. If Jiang Wanyin says he hasn’t drunk from the stream nor consumed any liquor, why is he speaking in riddles? “Me, for example. I’m an Elf. Pointy ears, long hair, immortal.”</p><p>“No pointy ears, a man, an immortal regardless,” Jiang Wanyin says, less offended though. He rather sounds amused, especially when he points to his ears to prove that they aren’t pointy, which Jingyi finds incredibly charming and it makes him lower his sword at last. “Men can become immortals through cultivation.”</p><p>“Cultivation?” Jingyi wonders. He has never heard the term before. Yes, there were very few whose lineage consists of both Men and Elves, but they just make their decision at one point, not reaching immortality through anything.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin sighs. “Forming a golden core, cultivating to reach immortality, all that..,” he says, clearly hoping that Jingyi does understand what he means. Well, Jingyi doesn’t understand a single word of what Jiang Wanyin says. Nothing at all. “But can we please continue this conversation inside, I am freezing. Surely, there’s a settlement near-by.”</p><p>Well, some flets are, high up in the trees but those are quite far away. However, a cave is not far from where they are, suitable to seek some shelter.</p><p>“If you are freezing, you must be a man,” Jingyi states, rather smug. “We Elves have long become indifferent to the cold.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin rolls his eyes again. “I already told you that I am a man. Do you want me to strip to have some proof of that?”</p><p>Well… <em> ‘I wouldn’t mind.’ </em> Jingyi has the decency to blush at his thoughts but is certain Jiang Wanyin doesn’t notice in which inappropriate direction his mind had just ventured.</p><p>“No need” he says, laughing. “There’s a cave nearby where I can light a fire and you can warm up. Although these lands are considered safe, it would be unwise to spend the night outside.”</p><p>Jingyi makes Jiang Wanyin walk in front of him, not willing to test his luck. Although he had not sensed any evil coming from him, he won’t risk it, still afraid he might be deceived. Snowflakes swirl around them, accompanied by an icy wind that pricks his skin as Jingyi guides them towards the cave. </p><p>Unlike himself, Jiang Wanyin isn’t light enough to walk on top of the snow, something that has the man complaining more than once. It makes Jingyi laugh, which only sparks Jiang Wanyin’s anger further, though actually, he doesn’t seem to be really angry. A little annoyed, maybe, but most of the anger and lashing out is fake. It’s quite endearing, actually, Jingyi thinks, curious who Jiang Wanyin truly is.  </p><hr/><p>As the snow keeps falling outside for days, Jingyi falls slowly in love with the man. The day passes as if he’s walking in a dream, a dream that consists of nothing else than Jiang Wanyin; his sarcasm, his laughter, his smile.</p><p>The fire Jingyi has lit right in the beginning keeps burning day and night for Jiang Wanyin always complains he is cold; there’s enough wood stacked in the back of the cave to let it burn for many months. The cave had been frequently used during the time the borders were still patrolled by the Galadhrim, equipped with food and drink for several weeks, wood and makeshift bedrolls to take some rest. It’s sparse and it isn’t much, but it’s functional and actually, a really cozy place. Perfect, actually, if Jingyi had brought Jiang Wanyin into the cave not because he simply stumbled across him…</p><p>Although Jingyi still doesn’t know who Jiang Wanyin is or what his true intentions are, he trusts him. It’s not true—he has trusted him from the beginning, because otherwise, he wouldn’t have brought him to the cave. Jiang Wanyin is exactly Jingyi’s type—but regardless of how much his type he is—if he had sensed any danger, he would have taken him somewhere else.</p><p>But he hadn’t. There isn’t any darkness about him; nothing that hints at evil or betrayal. Jiang Wanyin even gave Jingyi his sword when he had demanded it of him. (Yes, with some reluctance and under protest, but in the end, he had handed it over). It lies now at the back of the cave, together with Jingyi’s own weapons.</p><p>Whilst outside the wind howls and the snow piles up, they don’t solve the riddle of who Jiang Wanyin actually is—or rather how he ended up in Lothlórien. He tells Jingyi he had taken some rest at an inn, but had woken up in the snow, right there where Jingyi had stumbled across him. More than once during one of these conversations Jingyi thinks Jiang Wanyin must have fallen from the sky, right in front of Jingyi’s feet to be found by him. Deliberately placed there to be found…</p><p>It’s nonsense, and Jingyi knows it full well</p><p>And yet it still has him thinking, and has Jiang Wanyin thinking as well, for he too is confused by this strange meeting. No matter which name Jiang Wanyin tells Jingyi, he has never heard of any of them—nor has Jiang Wanyin heard of any realm in Middle-Earth. But strangely enough, they speak the same language, though each one speaks completely different languages as well.</p><p>He even teaches Jiang Wanyin some of his own language, the saying that is so important to the Elves,</p><p><em> Elen síla lúmenna omentielvo </em>- A star shines upon the hour of the meeting of our ways.</p><p>And it’s true—it’s exactly how Jingyi feels about meeting Jiang Wanyin. Although coincidence, it rather appears like they are being brought together by fate. When Jingyi tells Jiang Wanyin the meaning of the phrase, Jiang Wanyin’s lips curve into a smile. It’s the first smile of many, of the kind Jingyi gets easily addicted to. They make his belly flutter and his heart beat a little faster, and yet he can’t look away from Jiang Wanyin.</p><p>In the low light of the fire, Jingyi watches Jiang Wanyin with soft, hungry eyes. At times it almost is as Jiang Wanyin watches him watching, to an extent that Jingyi almost feels bold enough to edge a little closer towards him. It’s ironic in itself because usually, Jingyi actually <em> is </em> bold—but not in the presence of Jiang Wanyin. He doesn’t edge closer nor does he outright asks the things he’s interested to know; the personal things, inappropriate things, kind of. Jingyi, who always fails to keep his mouth shut…</p><p>The thing is: he loves to listen to Jiang Wanyin’s voice. Loves to listen when Jiang Wanyin tells Jingyi about his life, explains what cultivation means and how he has cultivated to immortality, and what it means, in the end. He loves listening to Jiang Wanyin’s voice so much that he forgets to speak himself most of the time.</p><p>Jingyi thinks back to the legend of Celebrimbor’s downfall as he keeps watching Jiang Wanyin. If Annatar had been only half as fair as Jiang Wanyin, it’s not surprising that Celebrimbor had fallen head over heels for the stranger. For that’s exactly what happens to Jingyi: he falls, each day a little more, every time he looks a little harder—falls for Jiang Wanyin’s smile, for the insecurity that lies hidden under the haughty air of arrogance. It makes him wonder where it comes from, what provokes it—to Jingyi, he doesn’t have to be insecure at all because he’s gorgeous, in everything.</p><p>It’s strange to willingly share a cave with a complete stranger, to eat and sleep next to him without knowing who he is and how he ended up in Lothlórien.</p><p>He wants to ask Jiang Wanyin questions, personal ones; wants to reach out and trail his fingers along his jawline, sharp as a blade. But he still hesitates, not doing any of these things, worried to ruin the comfortable atmosphere between them.</p><p>Regardless, his thoughts persist and the urge only becomes worse when Jingyi realizes that Jiang Wanyin watches him in his sleep, in the exact same way.</p><p>Of course, Jiang Wanyin looks away, pretending he hasn’t been staring for how long Jingyi doesn’t know. Jingyi smirks, rolling over to his side, expecting Jiang Wanyin to be reassured by his move, which quite clearly he isn’t because he looks away.</p><p>“You were staring at me,” Jiang Wanyin says after a while.</p><p>“I did what?” Jingyi wonders, furrowing his brows. He’d been soundly asleep until a few moments ago.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “You stared at me, transfixed, kind of.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jingyi laughs, remembering that Men sleep differently than Elves. “You think I stared because I had my eyes open?”</p><p>“Obviously,” Jiang Wanyin snorts. “Who sleeps with their eyes open?”</p><p>It makes Jingyi laugh all the more. “That’s how we sleep. With eyes open. But without perceiving anything.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin shakes his head, standing to prepare some tea. “How does anyone sleep like that?”</p><p>Jingyi mutters his protest that Jiang Wanyin shifts his attention away from him, loud enough to hear.</p><p>“Don’t be so ungrateful,” Jiang Wanyin snaps, but there’s no heat behind his words. It makes Jingyi smile because Jiang Wanyin is kind of adorable when he is like this. “I am making one for you as well.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jingyi says, and has the decency to at least blush. Somehow, he hadn’t thought Jiang Wanyin would, which is unfair.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin returns with two cups, handing one to Jingyi and for the briefest of moments, their fingers are touching. A moment, gone within the blink of an eye, but it has Jingyi’s heart thundering in his chest nevertheless. Jiang Wanyin’s skin is so warm. Smooth like the silk he wears.</p><p>Jingyi hides half his face behind the cup, eyeing Jiang Wanyin from the corner of his eyes whilst he loses himself in his thoughts.</p><p>Could it be that fate had Jingyi forsake the option to sail into the West? Had his subconsciousness tried to tell him something? But then, Jingyi isn’t known to be gifted with foresight like others of his kin. But it is not uncommon to develop the ability later in his life, and for an Elf, Jingyi is still young, a little older than six hundred years.</p><p>Many things had made Jingyi tarry, but back then, he hadn’t understood its significance. Not that he knows now—all he knows is that he wants; that he wants Jiang Wanyin to hold him in front of the fire, and hold him in return.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin elbows him. “Jingyi…”</p><p>The empty cup falls out of Jingyi’s hands. “What?”</p><p>Laughter fills the cave. “You stared…,” Jiang Wanyin says, his eyes glowing in the low light of the fire. They almost seem purple. “And this time I am certain you weren’t asleep…”</p><p>Jingyi smiles back at him. Although he had dreamt, he hadn’t slept. “Do you mind…?” he asks, realizing how fast his heart suddenly beats. He’s so nervous.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin shakes his head, appearing equally nervous. And it’s probably the very reason why they lapse into silence once more after it.</p><p>“Do you want to go back?” Jingyi asks later that day, not certain if he wants to hear the answer. The day has turned well into the evening by now the snow still falling, and falling, and falling.  </p><p>Jiang Wanyin’s reaction to the question is much shyer than Jingyi had expected it. “I… don’t know, don’t even know if I could since I don’t know how I came into this world,” he says, staring into the fire, a strange melancholic expression in his eyes. It’s kind of heartbreaking to watch. “As I told you before, I have cultivated immortality. All of my friends and immediate relatives are either dead by now or will soon die. And I am left.”</p><p>Not unlike himself, Jingyi thinks. Although in comparison to Jiang Wanyin he still has some friends left in this world, allies he can count on no matter what.</p><p>“I am sorry,” Jingyi says. “I really am.”</p><p>He wants to wrap his arms around Jiang Wanyin, wants to hold him and wants to comfort him, but he’s still not certain if any of it would be even welcomed. </p><p>“Your wife as well?” Jingyi asks cautiously after a while. He just… needs to know.</p><p>“I was never married,” Jiang Wanyin says, looking from the fire at Jingyi who fails to conceal his surprise at the answer. That man, handsome as he is, eloquent and actually very funny, rich as well, was never married? It makes no sense, not even a little.</p><p>“I can’t believe it,” Jingyi blurts, mouth dropping open. Very un-elvish actually. Not that he cares about that, ever has. And yet he feels ashamed by his own question—what does he know about Jiang Wanyin, his past and the culture he is from? Considering how relationships and marriages among the Elves are handled, and the fact that he still is unwed, Jingyi is in no position to judge anyone.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin shrugs, not offended by Jingyi’s question at the slightest. “Somehow, when I had the age during which I was supposed to get married I was busy with something else and never met anyone who fit, and then, well, I grew older and actually felt content to remain unmarried.”</p><p>A thousand questions are on Jingyi’s mind, but he opts for the least appropriate of them. “But surely you have some experience…?”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin snorts, rolling his eyes, but not in an offensive way. It’s actually quite charming, at least to Jingyi. “Some…”</p><p>After that, Jingyi’s mind is fixed on Jiang Wanyin’s reply. Some. Some can be anything. Although he doesn’t know Jiang Wanyin’s exact age, the silver strands in his black hair indicate that he’s not exactly young anymore. He wants to know, but for once he doesn’t ask, looking back into the fire. Perhaps, one day he might. As the snow keeps falling even stronger than before it doesn’t make any sense at all, not even for Jingyi. Not that he wants to leave the cave for it would mean to leave Jiang Wanyin behind.</p><p>After a considerable amount of silence, Jiang Wanyin tilts his head towards Jingyi but doesn’t say anything at all.</p><p>“Mhm?” Jingyi wonders, looking at Jiang Wanyin. The shadows of the fire cast over Jiang Wanyin’s face, making his features even sharper than before.</p><p>Jiang Wanyin clears his throat, fidgeting with his fingers in his laps. “Have you?”</p><p>Jingyi furrows his brows. “Have what?”</p><p>“Experience…,” Jiang Wanyin asks, dropping his gaze.</p><p>Jingyi laughs. “Some.”</p><p>Jiang Wanyin rolls his eyes at him. It makes Jingyi laugh all the more, so much that his stomach and ribs begin to ache from it and when he stops, he falls silent. Unsure how to proceed. He wants to lay down his head in Jiang Wanyin’s lap; wants him to play with his hair—or wants it the other way round.</p><p>Maybe, one day he could…</p><p>It’s already a week that they are trapped in the cave, only leaving it when it’s absolutely necessary. The distance they keep whilst sitting around the fire has diminished each day and yet neither of them makes the first move. It’s so obvious what they want; what they mutually want, especially now that the distance has practically become nonexistent.</p><p>Jingyi’s breath hitches in his chest, and his throat tightens as Jiang Wanyin tilts his head, looking at him, their faces only inches apart. Watching him. Jingyi looks back, watching equally. And then Jiang Wanyin reaches for his face, cups it with one hand and leans in. Tentative and careful, as if Jingyi or the illusion itself would shatter if too much strength is applied</p><p>The kiss is like a question in itself; of everything they haven’t addressed in the past days. Jingyi answers it with a stroke of his tongue against Jiang Wanyin’s lips, less tentative than everything Jiang Wanyin has done; brings his hand against Jiang Wanyin’s jaw—and it breaks the last ice between them, the little that still had remained.</p><p>And now Jingyi truly thinks he’s walking in a dream, caught between sleep and waking; reality blurring until the world consists only of Jiang Wanyin. Of his lips against his own, his hand, light and sounds blending into one whilst they kiss, unable and unwilling to let go. Even the brief breaks they have to take to breathe are too much.</p><p>Outside, the wind howls like a pack of wolves as their remaining tentativeness dissolves. Jiang Wanyin pulls Jingyi close and sinks down with him on the furs right in front of the burning fire, arms and limbs soon entangled. Jingyi lies sprawled out on top of Jiang Wanyin, hands and lips are everywhere, against Jiang Wanyin’s mouth, against his throat, his ears, just like Jiang Wanyin’s fingers try to slip beneath Jingyi’s tunic.</p><p>There are no doubts in Jingyi’s heart about Jiang Wanyin, never were. But finally, Jingyi thinks he understands the yearning he had always felt; the sadness that had never truly faded. All the things, which he doesn’t feel anymore since he has met Jiang Wanyin, exchanged for something else: excitement, combined with warmth and longing. Could it be that all his life he has been waiting for Jiang Wanyin, despite not even knowing he existed? Somewhere, in another world, far away?</p><p>Jingyi’s musings are pointless—he won’t find an answer to his questions on Jiang Wanyin’s skin. Not that this stops Jingyi exploring it, at least the parts of which he can get hold of, cursing when he realizes that Jiang Wanyin’s outfit doesn’t consist of one set of robes, but several. That doesn’t stop him either although it makes him groan, his own clothes long shed. There’s desperation in Jiang Wanyin’s touches; in the way Jingyi rocks into his hand, and when finally, all those layers have come undone, he’s rewarded by the sight of taut muscles under smooth skin. And Jiang Wanyin’s skin is so warm, much warmer than his own despite the burning fire.</p><p>Time passes in a haze. They are tangled in each other, breathless with joyful laughter and whispered words against heated skin. Desperate, and urgent, and at the same time, it’s not. With the snow falling, and falling, and falling, they have all the time in the world, sprawled across the thick furs. Jingyi has never fucked on furs in front of the fire—and he really wonders why. Well, he’s not exactly fucking now either, but still: it’s the hottest thing he has ever done and he has no doubt, that at one point they will.</p><p>They do.</p><p>Once.</p><p>            Twice.</p><p>Practically all night and in each and every position imaginable—and in positions that surpass Jingyi’s wildest imagination by far. And Jingyi’s imagination never lacked anything. The experience Jiang Wanyin has is hardly some…</p><p>His own sweat blends with Jiang Wanyin’s, and his skin burns with it as his hands weave into Jiang Wanyin’s hair. He’s open, and he’s ready, and he’s again hard without even the slightest of touches bestowed upon his cock. He needs, and he wants, just like Jiang Wanyin seems to want him, over and over again. Jingyi would never deny him anything, not tonight, never.</p><p>And the third time, when Jingyi is deeply buried in Jiang Wanyin, his entire body seizes, trapped in a state of ecstasy so intense that he’s blind with it. Purple, and pink, and blue speckles dance in his vision as he collapses on top of Jiang Wanyin, panting his name against Jiang Wanyin’s lips.</p><p>*</p><p>Much later, when the fire has burnt down to glowing embers, Jingyi lies in Jiang Wanyin’s arms, head resting against his shoulders and the sweat upon their skin . He traces the countless scars that are littered across Jiang Wanyin’s chest, kisses the bruises he had left behind tonight.</p><p>“I lied,” Jiang Wanyin says at one point and Jingyi’s heart drops, all the beauty of the moment destroyed. Had he been deceived, at all? Blinded by Jiang Wanyin’s beauty? Regardless, he looks up at Jiang Wanyin. “I lied when you asked me if I wanted to go back….” He squeezes Jingyi’s hand before he brings it up to his lips. “I don’t want to go back. Even if I could, I don’t want to. Not now, never…”</p><p>Jingyi’s breath hitches.</p><p>“I want to stay here, with you… anywhere,” Jiang Wanyin adds, a gentle hand against Jingyi’s jaw.</p><p>A lump is forming in Jingyi’s throat, too enamored by Jiang Wanyin’s admission to form a coherent thought. “I would…,” It sounds like a croak rather than words. “I would want that.”</p><p>Is it even possible?</p><p>Jingyi doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how Jiang Wanyin has ended up in Middle-Earth in the first place, doesn’t know if at one point he simply disappears from his world again. But for the time Jiang Wanyin is here, he wants to stay with him, in a way he has never wanted to stay with anyone else before. There are no laws Jingyi would break by staying with him for there aren’t any laws about such eventualities—and even if there were, he wouldn’t care. When all the world is about to change like never before it had, he would establish his own laws to crown Jiang Wanyin his partner; to see him wear the flower crown of marriage, white Niphredil woven into his braids.</p><p>Tears welled up in Jingyi’s eyes at the image and his thoughts, which he hastily wipes away. He rolls on top of Jiang Wanyin, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I very much want that actually,” he says, leaning in to kiss him.</p><p>*</p><p>A hundred years later, Jiang Wanyin is still at Jingyi’s side.</p><p>History about the Elven Realms of old has long became legend among the Race of Men, and legend became myth, songs that are sung around the fireplace in the inns they occasionally visit.</p><p>Instead of the silver ornament in his hair, Jiang Wanyin now wears his hair braided in the way Jingyi had taught him whilst they had been still in the cave, white flowers woven into it. The hills of Cerin Amroth are still covered by it, the only place east of the sea.</p><p>The purple robes have been shed for something more practical, although Jingyi had insisted that Jiang Wanyin’s tunic be the same color; he simply looks too good in it. </p><p>From the frantic days of giddy love, friendship had blossomed; a deep understanding Jingyi had never known before. Jiang Wanyin tells him he feels the same—tells Jingyi that every morning after waking up; and repeats the words when they fall asleep, curled up in each other, with their hearts and minds at ease—happy in a way each of them had never thought they would be. Content.</p><p>*  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to grundy for the grammar and Tolkien-specific beta read and Dirty_Corza for 'Chengyi-picking' afterwards &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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